Todtman had found them a place to stay, all right — right back in the Benz. “There are people here,” he had said. “But they are afraid. I think, perhaps, it is best not to impose on them right now — or to trust them.”

An hour later, Ren was lying in the backseat, since she was short enough to fit. The other two had the front seats reclined as far as they would go. She looked out the wide rear window at the sky above. It was so dense with stars that it seemed to shimmer and pulse. It didn’t press down on her vision as much as lift it up. They were still parked behind the same little cluster of buildings. Are we safe here? she wondered.

A car, when it came right down to it, didn’t offer much shelter. And yet, she didn’t feel afraid. Part of that was her company. Todtman was formidable with his falcon — even if he was snoring a little too loudly at present. And sometimes it seemed like Alex could move mountains with that scarab. Amazing for a kid who couldn’t even get through gym class a year ago … But part of it had nothing to do with the others. She looked down to see the ibis glowing softly in the starlight.

She considered it again with fresh eyes. She could do so much more with it now. She could pick locks and zap spirits and blind the occasional giant fly. And as for the images, maybe she had just been thinking about them the wrong way. She’d always thought that it was giving her answers and she was failing to understand them half the time. But what if it was just giving her information, guidance? What if it isn’t the answer key? What if it is the studying?

Alone in the backseat, she smiled. More than anyone else she knew, she liked studying.

A moment later, she was snoring, too.

The next morning dawned sunny, despite it all.

Alex woke up first, seat-sore and hungry. His body felt creaky, but inside he was buzzing. If this was the day they finally found his mom, it could be the best day of his life. It could also be the last. It felt like Christmas morning, with maybe a little too much Halloween thrown in. He tried to imagine seeing her again, after so long. Would I run up and hug her? he wondered. Would she let me?

He twisted his stiff neck toward the backseat. “Hey, Ren,” he said over the sound of Todtman’s precise, measured snoring. “You awake?”

“I am now,” she groaned.

The exchange woke Todtman. “Guten Morgen,” he croaked.

Alex and Ren responded with grunts.

Donk! Donk! Donk!

All three heads whipped around. There was a man outside the car, knocking on Todtman’s window. Todtman straightened his seat and lowered the window. There was a quick conversation in Arabic, a few bills handed over, and the man vanished.

“That is the owner of the store we are parked behind,” said Todtman. “There is a fee for parking here. I suspect it has been in effect for exactly as long as we have been here. Also, he wanted to know if we want breakfast.”

“Definitely,” said Alex. His feelings were a confusing swirl, but his stomach was making itself very clear by rumbling loudly.

The three climbed out of Hotel Mercedes and into the bright Egyptian daylight. They walked around the buildings and onto the main road, doing their best to stretch and smash down their Benz-head hair as they went.

Alex was surprised by the number of people on the street. Minyahur had been a ghost town the night before — literally — but now it was alive with activity. He checked the time on his phone. Apparently, the village that shuts down early wakes up early, too. Looking at the heavy wooden shutters, flung open now, he thought he understood. Ren had saved him from a terrifying fate with her ibis last night, but these people didn’t have amulets. They had only solid walls to hide behind.

He heard footsteps and stepped aside as a group of women walked past on the cracked concrete sidewalk. They were wearing traditional Muslim garb, covered head-to-toe in long black abayas and veils that left only their eyes visible.

“Aren’t they hot?” whispered Ren as they passed, looking down at her own sporty, short-sleeved outfit.

Alex scanned the village center. There were dozens of people, carrying bags or leading children or just walking swiftly toward some unknown destination. Most of the men wore pumpkin-sized turbans and the traditional white Egyptian gowns known as galabeyas. But almost all the women were wearing those same all-concealing black outfits. It’s a perfect disguise, he realized with both horror and some small bit of admiration. Mom could walk right past me and I’d never know.

A bell tinkled as they pushed through the front door of the store.

“Ah!” said the shopkeeper. “Breakfast, yes?” He gave Alex and Ren a quick look and a slick smile. “How is my English? Good, yes? It used to be, but I do not get a chance to practice much out of here.”

Alex smiled back politely. “So,” he said. “What kind of breakfast are we talking about?”

It was mostly dry, sugary biscuits and tea, but they all wolfed it down at a small table in the back of the store. Then they headed toward the front to pay for the food — and extra for any information. “The shopkeepers hear everything in a town like this,” whispered Todtman.

But if this man had heard everything, he said nothing. A foreign woman? Not that he was aware of. Any outsiders at all? Couldn’t think of any. Anything out of the ordinary lately? Ghosts and disappearances; rumors of a mummy. Nothing living.

They paid for the meal, a bottle of water, a can of insect repellant, and a cheap backpack, since Alex’s and Ren’s were still somewhere back in The Order’s secret citadel. Alex put the stuff in the pack and the pack on his back and headed toward the door. But that’s when he spotted something on a middle shelf: a quick flash of a familiar color. He turned back to the shopkeeper.

“This tea here, with the purple label,” he said. “Do you sell a lot of it?”

The man looked up at the tea and then back down at the cash register. “Not much,” he said. “It was a special order. Most people around here prefer the Egyptian —” He tensed visibly and swallowed the next word. After what seemed to Alex a very deliberate pause, he continued. “It is neither our most popular brand nor our least. Have a nice day! If you are still around tonight, we also serve dinner.”

He slammed the cash register shut, and with it, the conversation.

Alex tapped the metal tea canister. The little bonk he got back told him two things. First, the container was half empty. Second, his mother knew Egypt well — but he knew her better than anyone.